


Markedly

by EverytimeIDoSomethingStupid (kingkongkitty)



Series: 30 day challenge - Yogs [17]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:37:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingkongkitty/pseuds/EverytimeIDoSomethingStupid





	

Trott sat perched on the edge of the bed, watching Ross and Smith sleeping in the early morning light. The two men were tangled up in a complex embrace, almost like they’d fallen asleep halfway through a game of twister.

As he blew on his tea Trott’s eyes flicked over the bare, warm skin, buttery yellow light bathing their limbs and softening the harsh bends of elbows and pulling the red out of Smith’s hair, catching the blond in Ross’ eyelashes.

But, he was really following the pattern of bruises on both men’s bodies. Thin, deep purple ropes entangling Smith’s wrists where he’d struggled last night against the silken cord, a pattern of love bites and hickeys tracing from one arm to the other, meeting in a beautiful cacophony of reds, blues, purples and greens over his neck and shoulders, the occasional bite mark where Ross’ gotten enthusiastic at the delicious high-pitched whines that Smith was prone to letting out once he was settled deep enough in subspace.

Normally Trott would’ve treated the bruises straight away, especially with work the next day, but Smith had begged him to let him keep the bruises, liking the dull pain that would stick with him for the next few days.

Ross shifted with a groan, burrowing his head deeper into Smith’s shoulder, turning his back towards Trott.

The lean muscle was covered in small, red lines, deepening towards his ass witch was covered in handprints where Ross’d been spanked by Smith. The lash lines were Trott’s doing. It was rare Ross got the treat of lashes, and whenever he did Trott didn’t hold back, knowing how much he’d enjoy the stinging over the next few weeks as his back patched up.

Trott finished his tea slowly, making a catalogue in his mind of the state of both men, knowing they’d bear the marks of last nights love making with pride.

Even if it was his first instinct to want to patch them up quickly, both of them liked the marks. They made them his, marked them for everyone to see.


End file.
